“I don't imagine, Lord, that you can perceive why this might be to your benefit. Your mate the Lady has lost all her mice in the enemy lair. At the enemy hearth, I now have a mouse spotted black, orange and white. I expect to glean much from this mouse. If you share similar information with me, I will share my gleanings with you, Lord. To whet your appetite, I have the information that your mate's mice collected before termination. Before I send it, Lord, I require your commitment to a mutual exchange of information, and a deposit of information with me. For instance, how did an Emperor fill his consort's quiver with pointless arrows? Frankly, I don't expect you to know, Lord, but thousands would pay pretty taels to get that knowledge.
“A specific morsel of direct concern to you, Lord: Last night, during a repatriation, two Wizards battled near a certain garrison. One of the Wizards was the Traitor. Not long before that and not far north of that, two bandits, one of them a sectathon, happened upon a decrepit man bearing a staff. The crippled man was invisible to this sectathon's talent. I don't know who the man is or why he was heading south. Crossing northward, the two bandits didn't stop to chat, eh? The implications of his traveling south while the Traitor traveled north disturb me.
“Lord, you as well as I know that a time of strife approaches. Like you, I consult the Infinite on events yet to come. You and the Ephemeral Ice, for instance, have talked at length. Those conversations will have terrible results for the enemy and her lair.
“I counsel you to think long and deep on my proposal, Lord, as I will upon the gift born by the intermediary. Contrary to appearances, I have little use for the gift. I'd no more bring harm to her who issued the gift than I would to my own blond, straight hair. You couldn't have known that.
“So, Lord, I relish your remitted ruminations and I wish the blessings of the Infinite upon you and your Patriarchy.” Sighing, the woman relaxed, looking relieved to have remembered the entire missive.
“Incredible,” Bubbling Water muttered, grateful she'd prepared her mind before the messenger began to recite. Rearranging a few hundred thousand neurons, she stored the information in long-term memory. “If I secure the services of a Wizard, Lady Acceptance, would you submit to an erasure?”
“I've already arranged for such services from a Wizard of my own choosing. Do you have a reply for the Lady Bandit?”
“I accept the proposal,” replied the Matriarch Bubbling Water.
* * *
On her cheeks were tattoos of the Imperial insignia, a blue and white quiver of seven arrows. Standing in the antechamber, the third messenger of the day recited, “Infinite be with you, Lord General Guarding Bear. The Lord Emperor Flying Arrow, seventh of his august and Imperial Lineage, asks you to present yourself at the eastern hall of Emparia Castle at sunset, per your request for audience. This had better be important, Lord Bear!”
Guarding Bear laughed aloud. The impersonation was almost exact, the last sentence uttered in Flying Arrow's typical voice. Nothing has changed, the General reflected. The Emperor is as petulant as ever.
The Imperial messenger looked puzzled. “Do you have a reply, Lord?”
“Please inform the Lord Emperor Flying Arrow that it pleases and honors his humble servant to obey. Important enough, Lord Nephew.” Nodding to return her obeisance, Guarding Bear watched the woman leave. To an empty antechamber, he called, “Lord Captain.”
Striding in, Silent Whisper bowed. “A detachment is forming out front already, Lord—the Imperial Insignias, eh?”
“Thank you, Lord Captain. You've learned to anticipate our wishes quickly. Except that I want to leave from the back.” Guarding Bear wanted to leave the back way only to keep Silent Whisper off balance. Nodding, he retreated toward the east wing.
At the base of the stairway was a turtle. On its back, it couldn't right itself, its legs flailing at the air.
Odd, Guarding Bear thought, absently flipping it onto its feet.
Then a bird flew down the stairwell. Ducking, he watched it flap down the corridor.
Looking up the stairwell, he saw several empty niches. Has someone stolen the statuettes? he wondered. He ascended to investigate. Reaching the intermediate landing, where the stairway doubled back, he saw Healing Hand at the top of the stairs, framed by the library doorway.
As the General watched, the boy reached for an agate robin.
Guarding Bear had made the sculpture so long ago he no longer remembered the circumstances.
The moment the miniature medacor touched the statuette with his large palms, a live robin flapped from his grasp.
Infinite blast me, Guarding Bear thought, stunned.
Healing Hand reached up for an ivory rabbit—and pulled down a live, wriggling animal.
Guarding Bear remembered seeing the rabbit in the Windy Mountain snows two years before. He remembered turning the rabbit into ivory with his wild talent of conversion. He remembered bringing it home.
Now it tried to twist from the boy's hands. Alive.
“Hand.”
The boy jumped and dropped the rabbit.
Smiling, he shook his head at the child. “Those are my statues.”
“They're animals caged in rock!” Healing Hand protested.
Guarding Bear scratched his head. “I hadn't ever thought of them as such, Little Hand. All right, we can compromise. How many have you set free already?”
Looking down at his feet, Healing Hand half-opened his hands, a half-hearted shrug. “I haven't counted, Lord.”
“I see.” Guarding Bear chuckled, looking at how many remained just in the stairwell. “Too many to count, eh? Well, I'd guess you've converted statues enough to pay a medacor's salary for ten years.”
Healing Hand hung his head. “I'm sorry, Lord Bear. I didn't know they were valuable.”
“Not to worry, Son. Just promise not to convert any more sculptures without first asking, and promise not to tell anyone that you know how.”
“Why shouldn't I tell anyone, Lord?”
“It might be useful later, to both of us. The Lord Infinite gave you your talent for a purpose. We just don't know what that purpose is yet, eh? Don't worry about their value. I'll make more.”
Healing Hand nodded, looking ashamed.
“The Lord Emperor Arrow has summoned me to the castle. Want to go?”
“May I, Lord?” he asked, then smiled. “Thank you for the invitation, Lord Bear, but I'm not worthy of such an honor.”
Guarding Bear laughed. “You'll grow up when you grow up, Little Hand. For now, be just a child, eh?”
“The Lady Water told me I should say that!” he complained.
“Oh, uh, well, what do you think?”
“Obligatory flattery is stupid.”
Roaring with laughter, Guarding Bear gestured and descended, stepping over the rabbit. At the lower landing, he stubbed his toe on the turtle.
Healing Hand giggled behind him.
Treading the thick carpet, Guarding Bear ducked as the robin flapped past him.
Healing Hand's laughter rang down the corridor.
A servant led an unknown woman past them. “Look at all the animals! It's like the Windy Mount—” the woman began, then cut herself off.
He found Bubbling Water in the sitting room, contemplating a vacated cushion. Sitting beside her, Guarding Bear pulled her to him. “Flying Arrow has summoned me,” he murmured. “Want to come?”
* * *
On the way to the castle, inside an electrical shield, the mates each recounted their respective messages, sure-footed in the thoroughfare mud. The sun nearing the western horizon, black ominous clouds still hung low over the northeastern mountains.
An old, smelly bandit heading south, an old expatriate Northerner heading north! they both were thinking.
“We have to tell Flying Arrow.” Bubbling Water smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in her formal silk robes.
Guarding Bear nodded, her message confirming the treacherous stink that he'd smelled in the message from Burrow.
>
Behind them walked Healing Hand, carrying the eighteen-month-old Rippling Water. The boy and girl talked and laughed, the little girl still speaking two-word sentences. A column of guards marched on either side of the quartet. The late-afternoon street traffic parted for them willingly, the peasants gawking at the nobles in their finery.
In silence, the mates walked beside each other, their hands occasionally brushing. The contact pleasing them both, Guarding Bear looked into her face, seeing his happiness reflected there. He touched her mind with emotions of love, and she touched his in return, loving him too.
Both columns of guards suddenly faltered in their precise, orderly march. Some of them turned pale; others glanced toward the mates.
“Something has happened,” Bubbling Water said.
Nodding, Guarding Bear switched off the electrical shield.
Both stopped to consult the psychic flow. Blood drained from their faces.
“No,” she said, her syllable less a word, more a gasp.
Guarding Bear couldn't believe it either.
Looking at each other, they broke into a trot, fear spurring them toward the northern gate of Emparia Castle.
Chapter 9
Why did Guarding Bear pass the Caven Hills Prefecture to his son Rolling Bear? The most isolated region in the Eastern Empire, the Caven Hills was the true base of Guarding Bear's political power. With such a retreat as Bastion, as impregnable as the Tiger Fortress, and with such a people as the Caven Hills natives, as fierce as Guarding Bear himself, why did the greatest general of all time voluntarily walk away from it all? What could possibly motivate the Peasant Upstart Usurper to abandon the ultimate goal, the Eastern Imperial Sword? History cannot tell us, and leaves us to speculate.—The Fall of the Swords, by Keeping Track.
* * *
“Forgive me, Lord Emperor,” Exploding Illusion said. “I mean not to question your decision, but I'm curious. Why tell me and not him?” The Sorcerer Apprentice sat opposite Flying Arrow in the small room. The private audience chamber behind the eastern hall was rich in decoration. Fine silk tapestries hung from the walls, the cushions covered with crushed velvet, the carpets woven from the finest wools.
After three years of serving as Sorcerer Apprentice, the Wizard felt honored that Flying Arrow was finally taking him into his confidences. Why now? Exploding Illusion wondered. From the edges of the Emperor's shields, he detected no trace of motivation.
“He's the Traitor.” Flying Arrow shrugged as if that explained itself. “That and he's nearly useless. He's near his end. Only a senile fool would fall asleep on the south bank of the river and almost freeze to death.”
“Indeed, Lord Emperor. I wonder what he was doing there.”
Flying Arrow shrugged. “Infinite knows. Anyway, I don't want him even distantly associated with this task. You'll tell him nothing.”
“Yes, of course, Lord Emperor. It's an honor that you deem me worthy of trust. It will be a privilege to serve in this capacity.”
“Yes, it will. I want you to prepare an implant before we meet with the Northerner. The implant needs—”
“Eh? Did you say 'Northerner,' Lord Emperor?”
“No! I said 'Westerner'! Clean out your ears, by the Infinite!”
“Forgive me, Lord Emperor. I thought Lurking Hawk was the only Northerner still alive.”
“Why would I kill either of the two men who might know the location of the Heir Sword, eh? I'd be slitting my own belly. The implant needs to operate at all times. Since the implanted attitude will be counter to his innate attitude, it'll have to be strong as well.”
“In what way, Lord Emperor?” What Northerner? Exploding Illusion wondered.
Flying Arrow smiled. “The former Emperor Lofty Lion despises—”
“I thought he was dead!”
The Emperor closed his eyes. “Interrupt me again, apprentice, and you may never have another opportunity to do so, eh?”
Exploding Illusion quickly put his head to the floor.
“Of course, you think he's dead. Only the Traitor and I, and now you, know Lofty Lion didn't die when I interrogated all those Northerners. Anyway, he despises me for what I did. I would if I were he, and I don't want him to infect the mind of his charge.”
“ 'Charge,' Lord Emperor?” Exploding Illusion found it maddening, almost excruciating, the way, with hints and allusions, Flying Arrow, bit by bit, in pieces, informed him, slowly, of the plan.
The Emperor grinned. “You'll find out soon enough.”
Infinite blast it, why's he being so elliptical? Exploding Illusion wondered, not comprehending. “Lord Emperor, forgive me. Before I implant the former Emperor with the directive, I'll need to know the nature of this 'charge.' I need to know the object of the desired behavior, eh?”
Flying Arrow told him.
Exploding Illusion went pale.
“If you don't have the balls, Lord Illusion, tell me, eh? I'll have someone else implant Lofty Lion.”
“I have them, Lord Emperor.” He looked at the other man with what he hoped was a fearless expression. The Wizard knew that he knew too much already. If he declined now, his head would come off his shoulders.
“Besides, you heard what the Matriarch said, eh?”
“I heard, Lord.”
“Besides, look what happened to Scratching Jaguar!”
“I know my history, Lord.” Flying Arrow's trying to justify an act so perfidious it's not justifiable! the Wizard thought. Slowly, Exploding Illusion suppressed his shock and outrage.
“Good. Now, we meet him tomorrow night, at midnight, on the far side of the River Placid. We'll leave through the dungeons. You'll need electrical shielding and warm clothing dark in color. If you have questions about the nature of the implant, the desired attitude, or whatever, please consult me. I'll not have Lofty Lion turning the mind of the—”
A knock on the door interrupted him.
“See who dares disturb us, eh?”
Bowing, the Sorcerer Apprentice rose and stepped to the door. Opening it, he said as rudely as possible, “How dare you disturb us, eh?”
* * *
Someone beyond the door said something inaudible. Flying Arrow watched the Sorcerer Apprentice.
“A crate for the Lord Emperor? Well, bring it to the audience hall!”
Again, Flying Arrow couldn't hear the response.
“Too messy?” Exploding Illusion glanced at the Emperor inquiringly.
Flying Arrow gestured the other man to open the door.
Beyond it stood a guard. She bowed. “Lord Emperor Arrow, forgive me for disturbing you. A crate arrived at the northern gate of the castle, leaking what smells like … formaldehyde. I brought the bill of lading for your inspection, Lord Emperor.” She handed the parchment to the apprentice, who passed it to Flying Arrow.
The Emperor scanned it quickly. Stamped in red ink at the bottom was the admonition, “Open only at the order of the Lord Emperor Flying Arrow, seventh of his…” The rest was obligatory flattery he didn't bother to read. He looked up at the guard. “I'm not expecting a shipment of anything! Who brought the crate?” Formaldehyde? he wondered.
“A pair of levithons, employees of the Burrow Transport Company, Lord Emperor,” the woman said. “We've detained them, of course.”
“All right, Lord, er, uh, Lady, I'll be there shortly.” I wish I knew how to address these female warriors, Flying Arrow thought.
The warrior bowed, the apprentice closing the door.
“Anyway, you understand perfectly what I want, Lord Apprentice?”
“Yes, Lord Emperor, I do—perfectly.”
“Good, then let's see what this is about, eh?”
“I suspect poison, Lord Emperor. I implore you to be careful. Formaldehyde is quite toxic.” The apprentice opened the door for the Emperor, then closed it behind them.
The Emperor grunted. A pair of guards preceding him, Flying Arrow strode down the corridor, the other man following at a respectful two pa
ces. Flying Arrow walked into the eastern hall through the door behind the dais. Beyond the double doors, he strode, curious.
A crate in itself was suspicious. He couldn't fathom the smell of formaldehyde, doubting treachery was afoot. The smell wouldn't have been perceptible.
Down stairwell and across corridor the group went, the castle's convoluted construction preventing them from going directly to the northern gate. Few people knew the complete layout, the castle a baffling labyrinth intended to protect the inhabitants. The castle's construction allowed the Emperor to access all parts of the castle unobserved. No one knew all the secret passageways, their number beyond counting.
Blast that Traitor! Flying Arrow thought. What the Infinite was he doing at the river? I repatriate the Usurper and decide to enjoy myself, and look at what the Traitor does! Goes off where he shouldn't be. When he wakes, I'll kick his corpse across the River Placid!
Near the northern gate, the group emerged between the two outermost battlements. The sky was clear of the storm the night before, and the paving stones were dry and free of snow. The fading winter sun approached the horizon. A crowd had collected both inside and outside the gate, wondering at the crate and its smell. A thoughtful Captain had ordered the immediate area cleared, a cordon of guards holding spectators at a hundred paces.
Flying Arrow strode through the archway and saw it immediately. To the side of the path leading into the castle, just beyond the gate, stood a single wooden box, ten feet along each side. The two admonitions stamped on the sides of the crate were “Please keep upright,” and “Caution please: Contents fragile.” It wasn't small, not large, merely—different. The formaldehyde fumes burned the Emperor's nostrils.
“Move this Infinite-blasted box away from the gate! Over there, halfway between the gate and the river.”
Guards cleared gawking bystanders from the area. The two levithons who'd transported the crate lifted it with the combined strength of their talents.
The Bandit (Fall of the Swords Book 2) Page 10
